Does Not Complete
by Moony92
Summary: a bunch of crossover fics I never finished. I've decided to display them for all to see, lest they rot in the cobwebbed depths of my computer. Chapter 4 UPDATE: A Little Reassurance! Naruto xover
1. Chapter 1: The 133rd

**The 133rd **

"Talking" – quotation marks

_Thinking – _italics

**Author's Note:** I just wanted to test a bit. I miss writing fanfiction so I'll just try. It's been sadly too long. I just wanted to remember why I bothered writing in the first place. So please, comment and tell me what you think. Review, Criticize, Flame, they're all the same.

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_"L__ife is hard enough when you belong..." --quoted by unknown _(initially came from a song, but I can't remember which)_  
_

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It was too bright outside, too perfect. Birds sang, children laughed and giggled alongside devoted parents, and there was not a sliver of conspicuous evil in sight. There was no traffic; no teeming crowds of people shoving each other and being compressed against the busy bodies of strangers as though the colossal city of Tokyo itself was small and brimming. Everything was expansive and open for fun. Everything was happy; everything was as though fate itself had conspired to induce the feeling of security.

Juuban High School had been canceled due to major construction after a youma attack several months ago, the very last that ended in Sailor Galexia's purification. Matoki gave her free ice-cream today, an entire buffet in fact, and if she hadn't been so hungry she would've considered him either crazy or a guy who bumped his head very hard and now had no concept of money and the even more precious value of ice-cream whatsoever. And, for the first time in her life, she had completed every level in the Sailor V arcade game and won two dozens of stuffed animals from the toy vending machine. All of this miraculous things happened in one day. It seemed to be truly perfect in every sense of the word.

But Usagi knew there was no such thing.

She stared up at the ridiculously long stone steps that led toward the Sunset shrine. Usagi inhaled deeply, and for a moment she looked determined, but as she exhaled it was as though her confidence deflated along with her breath before her very eyes, like a balloon being squeezed of its carbon dioxide.

She clutched the two bags of stuffed toys at either of her sides, thinking how much of a travesty it would be to have such adorable stuffed animals and dolls go to waste. She had to remind herself later to donate the toys to some hospital or orphanage, whichever needed it most.

She took one step forward, then two, and then soon she was walking forward two at a time. She just wanted to get this over with. It was always so annoying when she arrived during _those _circumstances—when her friends were in a "mood".

She was just a yard from the sliding paper entrance doors of the temple—which immediately entered into the living room to where they always met—when she had heard them talking. Laughing, it seemed, almost wickedly together.

Usagi rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.

Sighing, she cast a longing glance down the stone steps behind her, considering perhaps to either let herself fall upon them and roll down with a certainty that she'd be dead by the time she reached the end, or simply walk away from the shrine all together and return at least a few months later, just until herdear friends were no longer PMSing.

"That Usagi is such a _klutz_!" Guffaws stupidly proceeded soon after.

Usagi sighed hopelessly, like a lazy parent that easily gave in to the whim of a spoiled child. Why did she allow them do this _every single time_?

"She doesn't_ disserve_ you, Mamoru!" Usagi heard Rei screech, almost righteously. _You'd think they'd wanna keep it quiet. They **know** I'm coming._ Usagi sighed again—she'd been doing that very often, ever since she was dubbed the famous heroine Sailor Moon in fact.

"But _you_ do," Mamoru purred seductively.

_Perverted bitch. He never purred to **me** like that_, Usagi pouted, feeling only _slightly_ jealous—but it was always out of habit more than anything else.

Rei and Mamoru had a serious case of the 'on-again-off-again' relationship. It was mainly Usagi's fault. Mamoru loved her too much._ Rei_ loved her too much. They all did, they just had to be reminded once in awhile. To Usagi they might as well have a severe case of Short-term Memory Loss.

Sure, Mamoru was a total man-whore, but that didn't mean he couldn't fall in love. And when a player fell in love, hell broke loose—and when a player fell in love with an honest-to-goodness 'I wanna wait until marriage' girl _four years_ younger than him, _more _hell broke loose. Rei was beautiful, too, far more enchanting than Usagi. So, naturally, you'd expect the playboy would be a little tempted. Even Usagi, at that time the tender naive age of fourteen, had expected heavy bumps along the way.

Usagi placed her bags of toys on the ground and pushed back the sleeve of her right arm, staring down at her golden-rimmed Mickey Mouse wristwatch. Mickey's gangly ebony arms were askew awkwardly to indicate it was three in the afternoon.

She had decided to wear her least favorite shirt today, the hot-pink long-sleeved blouse with Hello Kitty waving hollowly and cocking its big round head curiously to one side, making the plump white kitten look stupid, her beady black eyes gazing forward as though watching your every move with criminal intent. She didn't know why she chose the hideous shirt in the first place—it had been given to her by her grandmother, who being of her old age and sweet at heart still saw Usagi as a six-year-old little girl instead of the sixteen-year-old young woman she had, through some miracle, turned out to be. Her jeans shorts were plain bleached blue; the blatant plainness clashing with the shirt and making it stand out even more.

_Now, when will I enter…?_ she pondered. Usagi was a somewhat of a nosy girl—it was one of her secret guilty pleasures. She listened on.

"Usagi is just too dumb…" Usagi heard Ami sigh wearily.

Usagi shrugged. She had to admit, she _did_ drive Ami crazy at times with her sheer incapability of understanding complicated diagrams, situations, words, and the like. The blue-haired genius often got irritated when Usagi had no clue when she spoke in 'big words'. But what was the point of calling them 'complicated' or 'big' if she _could_ understand them? There really was a reason why they called it complicated!

"She nearly poisoned me!"

"_What_? Really?"

"I mean with her _cooking_."

They all laughed. Even Usagi, inwardly of course.

It had been Makoto who spoke first, then Minako afterwards with the ridiculous question.

"Eh heh…" Usagi sweatdropped, chuckling. Well, she _was_ terrible at cooking…

But really, they were going to betray her for _that_? A simple and harmless food poisoning? Her ignorance? Jealousy because she had a handsomer boyfriend than all of theirs combined? It seemed they were running out of ideas...

Oh well.

It'd all been done before.

She had gotten accustomed to their ridiculous reasons to overthrow her. She wasn't perfect, but she had gotten better on her behavior after the Three Lights. Usagi had been hoping her slight maturity would satisfy them for good. No such luck.

She would go through various scenes where they would betray her all her life ever since Sailor Moon. She'd arrive at Mamoru's apartment, forgetting something or just wanting to see him, and find him knocking up some broad, sometimes Rei. She'd get attacked by them after a youma fight where she was a little too clumsy or late in the action—even after she had successfully saved their ungrateful asses from said youma. But the most common of all? She'd overhear them plotting against her after _miraculously_ arriving early for a scout meeting. Was it so hard to believe that she could actually be punctual? Damn.

Even so, all was so ridiculously cliché. She was getting sick and tired of it, and always had ever since the tenth time they had betrayed her.

Today was the 133rd time.

"She's not fit for our leader, or princess."

"Rei will make a great princess," Mamoru vouched.

_Jeez_, Usagi rolled her eyes, _two months ago it was Minako. You guys are so fickle._ She took a deep breath, and then, _Okay, time to make my appearance! _Usagi readily stretched her arms to the back of her head, feeling her joints crack sickly. "Ew! Gross," she whispered, quickly withdrawing her arms.

Usagi took a step forward…

And tripped.

Her weight was too much for the tender paper sliding doors, and she found herself collapsed on the sailor scout's shoes. They stared at her, dumfounded, from across the room.

"_Tada_!" Usagi cheered perkily, determined that her intended dramatic entrance would not go in vain. "Ow." She rubbed her pained head sheepishly.

"Usagi!" Ami choked. Apparently the blue-haired genius had been sipping tea when she had tackled the door down.

"That's me," Usagi said, rousing herself off the now-disordered shoes and broken paper door. When she was standing, she found Rei sitting on Mamoru's lap. Usagi wanted to laugh, but thought better of it. It was obvious at how ridiculously incapable they were at hiding their affair, so much so that it was hilarious.

"You're early!" Mina cheered, her brows collecting pebbles of sweat. She was obviously trying to act as though their whole conversation beforehand had never happened. _So much for dreams of being an actor,_ tutted Usagi mentally.

"Did you hear anything we just said?" Rei asked carefully. She was glaring at Usagi homicidally, but Usagi didn't think the raven-hared priestess was aware of that herself. Mamoru had thrown her off his lap as quick as he could, so she was now lying in an awkward position on Makoto and Minako's.

"Pretty much, yeah." Usagi responded evenly. _Now, the grand finale!_ Usagi contorted her face into a feigned look of pure sadness and heartbreak. "W-what's going on?" She whimpered convincingly.

After a moment, Rei stood on her feet looking dignified, a venomous scowl contorting her haunting pulchritude. "Usagi, you are not fit to be our leader…or princess!"

"_Again?"_ Usagi wanted desperately to say. Instead, she took a few steps back, as though the words alone were a painful blow. Rei looked on triumphantly.

Seeing the blonde lunarian princess appear weak and vulnerable, the others were encouraged to step forward as well…

---

Haruka stared at the sopping wet blonde girl that gave a charming, toothy smile, her very expression laughably sheepish. The professional NASCAR racer leaned evenly against the frame of the large doorway and, after eyeing the tiny blonde before her from head to toe, smirked nonchalantly.

"Betrayal again?"

"Yup."

Haruka sighed. "Come on in, then," she offered hopelessly.

Usagi half-skipped into the colossal manor. "Y'know, you guys should have a map for this place," she commented conversationally as she entered the ridiculously large sitting room. "I'll get on that," Haruka replied dismissively, not really paying any heed to her beloved princess and only surviving heiress to the White Moon Kingdom's all-powerful thrown. Usagi pouted, her arms folded tartly across her chest.

"I'll get you an extra shirt and jeans, Koneko," Haruka called as she headed up the spiraling marble staircase that plummeted from high above. "Can I have one of yours? Michiru-san's are too tight on me," Usagi called back, "The one with Spongebob and Patrick doing an aerial on an off-road motorbike! That's cute!"

Haruka paused halfway up the stairs, a shapely brow raised skeptically as if in offense. She peered over the younger blonde carefully. And then, "No way! That's my favorite!"

"Aw! _Pweeeeaaase_?" manipulated Usagi, wringing her hands before her in a childish begging gesture, her bottom lip protruding forth ridiculously as her eyes watered like a hurt puppy's. Haruka rolled her eyes as though immune to The Look, but, as she proceeded up into the bedroom floor, she was intent on going to her own quarters and fetching the shirt anyway along with matching blue polyester shorts.

When she returned, she found Hotaru sitting on the sofa across from Usagi—having popped up somewhere around the time Haruka was obediently fetching clothes for her princess—who was standing in courtesy of their very dry and very expensive furniture. In the little eleven-year-olds hands she stroked a diminutive stuffed parody of a black-furred yellow-eyed Siberian wolf, designed to fool the adolescent mind into believing such carnivorous canines were adorable harmless creatures with impossibly big eyes and a huggable impression. And yet, Haruka could not place why she believed it suited the little Firefly so well…

Other stuffed toys, to which Haruka had never remembered seeing before, were bulging out of two shopping bags seated effortlessly upon the glass-and-iron antique coffee table. The NASCAR racer scoffed faintly. Supernaturally enhanced sub-dimensional pockets were certainly handy, apparently. The toys didn't even look soaking wet, unlike their owner.

"I think there should be stuffed toys that look like lamps! Antique ones! And they'd light up just like them, too, only it'd be a nightlight stuffed inside the center! Wouldn't that be cool, Usa-mama? Wouldn't it?" Hotaru swooned, stroking the stuffed wolf-doll even faster as she grew more excited. Usagi blinked, "That… is the cutest idea ever! Maybe you could go to Build-A-Bear workshop and suggest all those_ brilliant_ idea's to those inventor people? Whatever they call them…"

Haruka coughed into her sleeve to gain attention from the two.

"Bless you," they both replied.

"Hotaru-chan…" Haruka sighed, suppressing a growl, "Could you please leave us for a moment? Why don't you go play with Diana?" Hotaru beamed and agreed with gusto, skipping out of the expansive room. Once gone, Haruka tossed the dainty blonde her shirt and shorts.

"Thanks." Usagi proceeded to discard her dampened clothes and put the dry one's on while Haruka turned away.

"This is a living room, y'know," Haruka reproached calmly, even as she turned her back to Usagi.

"And what of it? I'm not going to walk all the way up the stairs just to change. I'm just going to stay until Puu gets here, which will be soon I'm sure." She replied nonchalantly as she shrugged on the shorts.

"Why didn't you just go up there and get it yourself? That way you could change in there."

"B'cuz you don't trust me in your room. Not anymore…"

"You had no right to go through my drawers!" Haruka grated, flustered.

"And _you_ had no right to have stacks of playboy in you and Michiru-san's bedroom. Tsk-tsk, what would she say if she knew?"

"That's enough!" Haruka whipped around, her face entirely bright red. Usagi was already dressed, beaming as she stared at the shirt she wore. With a contented sigh she dived onto a long Lazy Boy sofa. Deflated, Haruka slumped into a loveseat across from her.

There was silence.

Awkward silence…

There was always awkward silence eventually when she came…

_Boooooriiiiing. _

Several minutes later, Usagi sighed for the one-hundredth thirty-third time. Haruka twitched at the sound, for it had already become too annoying to bear. "Why do I have to do this…?" She blurted at last.

Haruka paused, for now her previous annoyance suppressed. "Well, if you stayed any longer they'd just let all hell break loose ten-fold, Koneko. You know how they get when they don't calm down." She leaned forward, her elbows propped over her knees.

Usagi shook her head curtly, frustratingly dismissing what Haruka explained. "No… what I'm trying to say is…why can't Rei and Mamoru just _be_ together? Why can't we just go on with our lives? Maybe if they actually got what they wanted then they wouldn't have to be so fickle and quit PMSing…"

"There's no use. They'd always want you back sooner or later."

"But why? They get what they want—annoying ol' Usagi is out of the picture—they're free to do whatever they want, they've managed to flick off Destiny. Why can't they be satisfied?"

"Even I can't live without you, Koneko. You're special to all of us whether you realize it or not, and we all need you, each in our own unique and special way."

_I'm not oxygen y'know…_ Usagi scoffed. "Oh, I _realize_ it alright…" she sighed, "I just wish you all _weren't_. Sometimes I wish I'd never met any of you. Sometimes I wish my future didn't exist…"

"Don't say that. What about chibi-usa, and Crystal Tokyo…?"

"But that's just _it_, isn't it? Nothing's ever for _me_. It always has to be for the good of the—the _future _or t-the _people_ or my future _children_. That's just your stupid bait that keeps_ reeling_ me in, away from what I want, from a chance where I can _choose_. Why don't I ever have a say in anything? I never wanted to be a princess—least of all Serenity. I_ hate_ Serenity. I just wanna be…normal…" Usagi almost looked as though she was at the brink of hysteria, stuttering and choking the entire time she spoke, but the tears or sobs never came. She was just angry, Haruka realized. She was sad and angry at the same time. Not a good combination.

Usagi Tsukino was a person, not just a reincarnation of someone far more important or a key to world peace. "Aren't I _supposed _to have a choice, like everyone else?" She looked boringly into the lanky racer's smoky-blue eyes, as if staring at Haruka would give her an answer that she'd want. She was right, Haruka knew. The racer herself had been given a choice on whether to become the Soldier of the Wind or not, and she chose to accept it. "I know this is selfish of me—and I'm sorry, really—but I'm only human. I was only fourteen!"

Haruka gazed at her hard, her eyes smoldering not out of anger but of reproach. After a full minute she let herself lean against the backrest of the loveseat with a gruff sigh, running lengthy agile fingers through her hair. "See, _this_ is why I hate it when they go on those routine betrayal shit… we always end up talking about this." She peered between her fingers over at the dainty blonde across from her, her hand over her face in exasperation.

Usagi leaned back, deflated. She didn't like talking about it, too, but she supposed it was always her emotions that got the better of her. She wasn't very good at controlling them, after all. Now, however, she didn't want to talk anymore.

The double doors opened and shut from the lobby only one huge room away from where they were. Sharp heels clicked echoingly, likely heading towards them. The clicking stopped abruptly, as if pausing, upon the doorway.

"Usagi?"

Haruka glanced over her shoulder with a start. "Michiru? I thought you were away?" The teal-haired woman was supposed to be on a three-month tour in Europe. The professional violinist had the decency to blush. "Well, I missed you. And, besides, being so far away from my family I simply could not concentrate." Haruka smiled fondly at the sight of her lover blushing…

"Ahem…wow, this is awkward," Usagi coughed into her sleeve to hide her snicker. Haruka turned her gaze sharply, glaring at the blonde in a half-pout half-evil eye. Michiru giggled. "Don't knock it till you try it," she cooed. Usagi grinned lopsidedly, almost awkwardly, not knowing what to think of the words. "Uh, _pass_," she chuckled good-humoredly. Michiru lifted her bare shoulders in a shrug. "Too bad."

"Now wait a minute!" Haruka shot up from her seat, flustered. "Don't encourage Koneko about that!"

"Don't tell me you're jealous." Michiru quirked one shapely brow.

"Yeah, _jealous_," Usagi tried to stifle her laughter by shoving her sleeves into her mouth. It was just far too ridiculous _not _too laugh at.

"And what's wrong if Usagi likes women?"

"Yeah… HEY! Wait a minute!" Usagi shot up from her seat very much like the way Haruka had, startled. That was not what she expected.

"She's _supposed _to marry Mamoru, THAT'S WHY!" Haruka hollered, flustering deeper. Usagi glared at Haruka. "As if I need to be reminded!" She pouted. She had no say in the matter of marrying the college graduate—the future was set ever since Chibi-usa had arrived.

"Ahem…"

The threesome turned to the doorway. "Setsuna-mama is here!" Hotaru cheered from behind the tall scientist, who sported a black turtleneck sweater and a gleaming bluish-green formal skirt with a pair of matching high-heeled dress sandals. The white lab coat was folded and dangling over her right forearm.

"Haruka…" Setsuna began, pausing only for a moment.

"Hmm?" Haruka lifted her brows casually in regards.

"Remind me to install a coat-hanger beside the lobby entrance. I simply don't know where to put this at times," she finished, gesturing to her lab coat. Although nodding, Haruka was somewhat perturbed at the request, having the strangest feeling of some reluctant errand boy—or girl. Whichever way she preferred it.

Michiru pressed the tips of her elegant shapely fingers to her mouth to suppress her amusement. Clearing her throat with a sort of mellow calmness, Setsuna continued, "Now, Princess Serenity, please follow me."

Usagi frowned. "How many times have I told you…?"—she paused at the sight of Setsuna's pleasant amusement contorting into a smile—"Oh, _forget_ it!" She pouted, her arms folded across her chest. The official guardian of time proceeded opposite of the four, toward the kitchenette, Usagi trailing behind grudgingly, leaving Hotaru with her devoted foster parents. She stopped and turned around before they entered the hall that tunneled towards the other room, and called, "Oh, can you put those stuffed animals in an orphanage or hospital charity for me? Hotaru can pick four, and the rest will go to charity!"

"We'll get on that," Haruka answered for the three of them, sounding dismissive. Usagi sighed exasperatedly.

They entered the kitchen. "Oh goody! What's in your fridge? I'm starving!" Usagi pranced across the room to the colossal steel fridge.

"You will eat once you arrive at the dimension I will put you in for now," Setsuna explained patiently. Unholy noises clattered, clicked and boomed as Usagi rummaged through the refrigerator. "Yay! Popsicles!"

Setsuna let her eyes close in agitated meditation, a light vain emanating from the temple of her forehead. "Princess, please withdraw from _my_ refrigerator."

Usagi peaked around the large steel door of the fridge that stood ajar at her side, a blueberry rocket Popsicle dangling from her mouth. She blinked at the discomforting grimace on the taller woman's face. Plucking the frozen treat from her mouth, she defended, "Hey, a princess has her privileges, right?" And she proceeded in hunting for soda.

Setsuna was behind the teenage girl in a blink of an eye. And with no more than the faintest "Eep!" the blonde was transported from the manor's immense kitchenette to the shadowy realm of which the Gate's of Time respectfully resided in a burst of dramatic lighting effects.

"Hm, where'd my popsicle go?" Usagi sulked.

"This is no time to act foolishly, Hime. Must you behave this way every time?"

"Well, _someone's_ gotta be cheery in these circumstances. Or at least pretend to be," Usagi mumbled. She glanced towards the sailor soldier of time, her eyes suddenly smoldering with a dull melancholy that made Setsuna uncomfortable, and added pointedly, "It's certainly not the first time. Right?"

Setsuna almost missed the childish pouting her princess had done only moments before. It was difficult, however, on whether to decide if she were depressed with loosing her Popsicle or rather something to do with her fairly inconvenient duty to the universe. Setsuna hoped only for the first presumption.

Setsuna coughed into her gloved fist, as though the noise would lessen the nonexistent tension. She raised her towering key-scepter even higher, letting it sway from one side to the other, a dark light emanating from the black orb fastened atop the intricate rod.

From out of the inky darkness materialized a large lavender door, elaborately ornamented with elegant silver lining and one large hoary gargoyle knocker. The door was colossal, and its surface was intricately carved with the history of its respectful dimension, images of wars, peace, love, and hatred—everything that made up an entire living world.

Usagi never got tired of the sight. There were so many doors, each as beautiful and colorful as the last.

"Well," She mumbled sulkily, "I guess this is it…" Setsuna's face was expressionless as she nodded to her princess.

---

**Authors Blurb: **

Fist of all… Whoop! Me back from the dead! **:D **

Okay—now that that's done with—before you go all rabid on me and start flaming me with unimaginable profanity to which I am far too innocent to know or understand, hear me out.

This one-shot was _not_ meant to offend or bash _any _of the characters in the Sailor Moon fandom whatsoever. This was _not_ meant to offend or bash _any_ of the many, many, many authors that have ever written a fic based on the cliché "Betrayal Plot" in all of Sailor Moon Crossover Fanfiction history. This was, however, in all honesty, created to bash the betrayal plot in general, and _only _the plot, because for some reason it cannot die no matter how many times I throw clusters of garlic at it or stab it with my trusty Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer stake. Savvy?

So… no offence.

**_Thank you...!_ 3_  
_**

—**Moony**


	2. Chapter 2: I'm a Nobody

**I'm a Nobody **

**By: Moony**

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"_Nobody is perfect. I'm a Nobody, therefore I am perfect." –unknown _

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Roxas brings the tip of his gloved fingers over his forehead, brushing away the strands of strawberry blonde. His eyes glisten against the shadow of the leathery hood that is tucked over his head, resembling two smoldering embers against the pitch darkness that overshadowed his face.

Time pauses at his advantage. Before him a girl is frozen in time, and he has taken the opportunity to study her from his position leaning easily against a lamppost. He does this routinely, and yet at times his own actions puzzle him. He can not go a day without seeing her, ogling at her, observing from afar like some pathetic admirer. But he is rather curious than admiring—he will never admit himself to be an admirer; he will never tolerate the idea with any sort of emotion besides resentment.

The girl sparks something at the deepest recesses of his mind, a memory that pulses angrily, demanding freedom. The more he stares, the more easily his mind corresponds with the memory. It is most curious, for he knows that Nobodies do not harbor memories to begin with.

She has been running franticly, her satchel flailing around in one hand and a bland piece of overcooked toast upon the other.

Roxas has seen blue eyes before. He himself has eyes of similar coloration, but he has never seen eyes that seem to dance like the flow of the deep ocean. But it has been a long time since he has seen the ocean—or perhaps he is just imagining that he had?

Roxas is blonde. In fact several of the Organization's associates are blonde. But he has never seen a young woman whose hair is under the appearance of one whom has been kissed upon her head by the very sun itself, perfecting her pale stresses into a brilliant golden sheen that whisks up into a childish, albeit cute style of twin pigtailed buns. The manner of hairstyle seems so familiar, and yet all together not at all.

He hates her, this young blonde woman. She is completely inept in everything that she has ever done or attempted; clumsy and childish, temperamental and boisterous, with a self-esteem that might have well been none at all. She is everything a beautiful young woman _shouldn't_ be, everything that little girl's aspire _not_ to be.

But that is not why he hates her.

Hiding beneath the surface of the bungling impression the blonde conveys is something so much more beautiful, so much more alluring, and ever unforgettable. Underneath the veneer of ineptitude was someone pure, someone that beautiful women _dream_ of being, that little girl's can _never _grow upto be. She is kind, loving, and utterly loyal. She is so raw with purity, so effortless in her ability to express love and kindness that they seem to emanate from her blue eyes like an ethereal shine.

No, he can never hate her because of what she is—for she is someone that can never be hated, someone that should forever be loved.

He hates her because she makes him _feel_. She gives him the painfully false hope of believing that he has a heart, and with it he is able to feel and think like any normal human being should. He hates her because she makes him _yearn_—yearn for humanity, for love…

For _her_.

She makes him _dream_. Before her, he _never_ dreams. He does not allow himself to indulge in such false emotions, he does not pretend. He knows what he is, and he lives with the fact without regret. He has always lived without regret.

But that is before he discovers this enique slip of a girl. Now, he does not know anymore. Now, he feels emotion. He feels uncertainty, hatred, and affection, and they lunge at him in one chaotic leap. He wonders how human beings remain competent in handling such potent sensations, such immoral thoughts, and he hates and envies said creatures for being so capable of controlling the ability to do so. He hates himself for having that ineptitude.

He hates that he has fallen in love, fallen so deep even when he has never pesonally met the girl. Knowing that from that day on he will always remember her even as her world was slipping away like dust against the breeze, slowly being consumed into darkness.

He will always remember her.

"You've given me a heart, Tsukino Usagi..."

---

---

**Author's Note:** Aw! Roxy-poo is in _luuuv_! **XD** This was suppose to be a chaptered fic, but i really couldn't think of anything else to write. The inspiration was lost to me. Anyway, if your still reading this, Roxas is a Nobody. No surprise there. I bet a lot of you've finished Kingdom Hearts II. But he's Sora's Nobody, and since Sora knows Serenity in my fic "The Hearts" Roxas thinks Usagi is familiar. Yup. Nuff said.

**_Thank you!_**

Sincerely,

Moo-chan


	3. Chapter 3: Faulty Angels

**Faulty Angels **

_Chapter 1: Pray _

_**I do not own Gundam Wing or Sailor Moon**_

**Warning: **_As you read it may seem confusing, because the timeline often switches a bit with each chapter. Just work with me, kay?_

_**--**_

_"Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest." --Mark Twain Samuel Langhornne Clemens (1835-1910) _

_**--**_

**195 A.C. **

Emotions. They were powerful, and destructive, and if God hadn't made them so unbelievably _fun,_ then they were not of much use to human beings on the whole - hell, human beings probably wouldn't be considered human at all. They'd probably have died off early on in their stages of development, at any rate...

In psychology and common use, emotion is the language of a person's mental state of being, normally based in or tied to the person's internal (physical) and external (social) sensory feeling. Love and hate, courage and fear, joy and sadness, pleasure and repulsion - these individual sensations can all be described in both psychological and physiological terms. They were a part of human beings, a part of being alive, and some may even think that it was a part of your soul - because all your soul really is, _is_ _you_, a living breathing soul.

They were puzzling creatures, these emotions of the human psych, infuriating and with minds of their own. They react on their own accord, and there was simply no way anyone could help it.

But no one had told him how much they _hurt_. He, unfortunately, had to learn that on his own and, as always, _the hard way_.

It was the weight of them, these emotions, and they held him down so much like gravity, working against him. But it had been too late, hadn't it? He was already in, deep. Too deep.

And that was why... that was why he had to be careful with her.

"Tsyu..kai...noe?" The word danced around the tip of his tongue before it was left to linger in the air, painfully awkward. And his pronunciation, he knew, was absolutely terrible. It made his jaw clench, shudder, and he inwardly winced. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she did not seem pleased with his attempt - not offended, no, but she looked as though there seemed to be no hope of him ever accurately pronouncing her surname. And she had every right to think as such, he was sure. After all, he had tried to pronounce her surname five times already. It was all from the look in her eyes.

And those eyes...

They surely were something, those bright royal blue eyes. Or was it really blue? He couldn't tell. The thing about her eyes was that it reminded him of the ocean, and in the strangest way, too. They seemed to churn with life, like within the very iris of her eyes it was almost as though a sea, caught in the heat of a gray storm, was undulating and ever altering. They seemed to change, to churn with hues of blues like the coming of a typhoon. He didn't know what to make of it. It was haunting.

She was new, fresh - a breath of fresh air, he would think, considering the people he'd had to deal with. She seemed different, ethereal almost, transparent. But she didn't seem the anti-social type, nor diffident, at the very least. There was something humbling about her, something that could quite possibly disarm even those on the highest alert, something that made he himself feel... _normal_ might have been the word. He wasn't quite sure, but he knew that it felt good.

"Well, err...Miss Tsyukainoe...the name's Duo Maxwell," he introduced none too formally, erecting his thumb pointedly upon himself in disarming emphasis. He resisted the urge to give the beautiful young woman his trademark smirk and wink, flirtatious in its innuendo, early on deciding against it. Far too much people were around, he supposed. Or maybe he just didn't want to rush into things with this girl. For some reason he didn't want her to think of him as some charismatic modern-day Casanova. The first impression he would leave with her mattered to him, and he didn't really care why it did so. Or knew, for that matter.

"Ano... you can just call me Usagi," she responded, her voice soft-spoken and unassuming, and yet altogether quietly cheerful. He had imagined her a more boisterous attitude, but he supposed she was simply wary of him, a mere campus host, to appear utterly open. He didn't think it strange that her English was perfect, smooth and precise. No, it didn't seem too important at the time, much less suspicious.

_'Greeaat_,' was his first impression, '_**another**__ name I'll never pronounce...just add that down to the other ten thousand.'_ He smiled sheepishly, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he was obviously lost in pronunciation.

Usagi grinned, amused, the corners of her lips never quite reaching her eyes, and yet still leaving a lovely affect. It seemed almost hollow. Or did it? Again, another thing he couldn't tell about her. All he knew was that she didn't look bad with it. In fact, he imagined that she'd make the "_impassive anti-socialist_" look appear very fetching. If she were ever to try it, of course.

"I believe the English translation is...rabbit?" Usagi giggled, but he had mistook it for peals of bells. Her voice was silvery.

Now why didn't he believe that cutesy unassuming facade? For some reason he knew very well that she knew her name was translated into rabbit in his native tongue, and really didn't need to pause in thought. Oh well. That didn't seem too important either.

Besides, he wasn't the perceptive one. Trowa was. Duo'd leave the awkward scrutinizing to the ever-observant Silencer himself.

Duo just hoped that the Silencer wouldn't have to meet Tsukino Usagi.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Faulty Angels**

_Chapter 2: Like Any Ordinary Day_

_**--**_

_"Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the very last time." --James A. Baldwin_

_**--**_

Today wasn't really such an important day - it harbored no importance. Today was a just another Sunday, like any other ordinary day.

But, Quatre supposed, it was a good day. Not his good day. He wasn't sure what to make of today, his day. But it was certainly a good day for the world. The world would be better off with him gone, after all.

-

"Tsu...Tsukino?"

She was new, wasn't she? She was a new student, and she had to go through her first day in school having to see him die.

She stared at him blankly, the layers of shadow shifting through her face making her expression seem unfathomable. She did not answer him, and the silence lingered uncomfortably, but Quatre knew it was her. She had those hauntingly deep, deep blue eyes—eyes that were impossible to forget. One look into those eyes, taking in the stunning coloration, and she'd seem far from just a face in the crowd—something, well...ethereal...and yet at the same instant strangely alluring.

Her eyes glowed like heated coals in the dark, gazing not at him, but directly_ into_ him. They smoldered with the sense of reproach, full of sympathy—sympathy that, Quatre realized, was directed towards him.

He bowed his head in shame, and the tears that had been teeming to the brim was now overflowing and rolling down his face, the feeling of disgrace added to his current self-loathing. In his left hand was his barreta, something he became so accustomed to having, feeling his fingers close around the sleek, cold metal handle that protected the vial of deadly steel bullets.

He didn't notice her walk up to him, and it was only when she took his hand did he jolt out of his reverie of personal demons and look up at her. She pried the cold weapon out of the comforts of his grip with effortless care, her movements gentle and disarming. When the steel contraption fell to the floor with an unnoticed clang, she did not let go, and instead paused, staring at his palm as though noticing something on it for the first time.

"Why does your hand bleed?" She asked, soft-spoken, her silvery voice spilling forth the tones of subtle and genuine interest. She looked up at him questionably, as if looking at his face would provide an answer, but he could only return the gesture with horrified shock. The tip of her pale fingers gingerly traced the colored lines over his callused palm, as though she was touching and seeing the hand of a murderer for the first time and was now lost in her childlike, unassuming curiosity.

Quatre's eyes had unknowingly widened at her words, and without thinking he tried to pull his hand away from hers, which seemed to close its lengthy fingers around his palm like a tight, velvety glove. "You bleed, but the blood is not yours. It reeks with the stench of misery from the innocent and evil alike, your enemies and their wives and their children…" She continued, as if in thought, bringing up his rough hands to examine it impassively.

Quatre tried in vain to move away. Her words stung with the poison of truth. It wasn't long before he became frustrated by the fact that she held him down. _Let me go or…_ Quatre's words choked before they even left his throat, lingering in his thoughts before disappearing into nothing. He found himself helplessly blushing.

The hoary-haired girl had brought his hands to her lips and gently smoothed its fingertips against them. And, for a moment, as though within a breathless trance, Quatre was under the impression that he had just touched the feathers of an angel's wings. It felt at though she were kissing the blood away.

Pressing them to her lips one last time, and then letting go as Quatre found himself craving for her touch in sulky, miserable silence, she brought her eyes up to look into his. He could only look on helplessly into hers. But her eyes bore into him like an enflamed blade, effortlessly piercing flesh, two deep pools of fathomless cobalt-blue flames. Her gaze burned through his flesh, blood, and bones until, finally, with one last agonizing thrust forward they reached directly into his soul, prying into his secretive demons.

It was so personal, so covertly hidden under the safety mechanism that was his underestimated youth and innocent schoolboy veneer.

But she seemed to break his defenses with so little effort, staring into them as though they were pages of an open book that seemed to be of no real significance, poorly written in blood—as though his pain, his sufferings, his guilt, and the sad life that he lived overall was a silly excuse to kill himself, giving him the ugly feeling that he seemed to be crying over spilled milk...

…As though it was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compared to what she had endured.

And what _had_ she endured to make her look as such? Quatre wondered this knowing that ultimately he may never receive the answer - one that was to the right amount of detail to satisfy him, at the very least.

"That's okay, Winner-san..." As if she had never known a time of darkness, or of unhappiness, a dazzling smile materialized upon her face, one that made him feel petty before someone so happily beautiful. "…I'm a murderer, too."

And, just like that, she forgave him—she forgave him for attempting suicide, as though she had every right to do so.

Placing a tender, alabaster-pale hand over his damp shoulder, she led him away—away to where, exactly, Quatre wasn't sure. Quatre didn't care. He had the strangest feeling that he was being judged before an angel and, deeming him forgivable, was now leading him into some sort of safe haven. It was silly really, but the feeling wouldn't go away.

She was drawing him away from the dark room, and toward the array of light emanating from the wide open doorframe of the classroom. For some reason, he had the feeling he was walking straight into something of a heaven. Which was a strange idea, because that was definitely the one place Quatre was sure to never gain entrance to. It was only the prospect of eternal blood-red flames for this young Winner to broil in.

It made him wonder why he wanted to die in the first place.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Faulty Angel**

_Chapter 3: Like the Real Thing_

_**--**_

_"The only creatures that are evolved enough to convey pure love are dogs and infants." --Johnny Depp _

_**--**_

An infinite blue sky, a public recreational area littered with plant life, buildings that soured into the air as though reaching for the clouds, and a whole lot of the damned walked by upon perfectly leveled causeways. Cars sped by as though harboring a secret right to be reckless, and the flaunting breeze mingled with sweet pine and bitter city air.

She felt as though time moved on without her, tired of her lack of punctuality—and, after all, punctuality related well with time. She did not change. In fact she did not do anything for quite a while, only watching on as her friends matured to bigger and better things… things, apparently, more important than her. Everyone else succeeded in their dreams almost immediately after Galaxia's end, everyone but her, of course. She was always behind, always left behind.

Her friends seemed to rise higher and higher, surpassing all aspects, and as they grew higher she was slipping farther, shrinking away in the distance as they rocketed pass. And what was more disturbing was that she didn't even age. She should've been happy for her friends, and in a sense she was. She always was, for it was what was expected of her, even something in her nature. But there was always that tight, ugly feeling in her chest that felt very much like isolation, and a flurrying mix of other sentiments Usagi hated enduring…

Minako Aino had moved on as a supermodel actress, Rei Hino a pop-star idealist, Makoto Kino a legendary chef in both the colonies and earth, Ami Mizuno the Nobel-prize-winning cancer-curing doctor alongside mentor Setsuna Meioh, Haruka Tenoe the world-class racecar driver, Michiru the loveable instrumentalist, and even little Hotaru who wrote bestselling books on the structure of death and war and everything anarchy—which was both terrifying and impressive considering she was only fourteen. And Usagi Tsukino was but their average untalented friend, a girl who in a near-impossible stroke of luck happened to know every one of these especially famous people. Ironic how she was destined to be the queen of the universe, someone that held an almost-forced and drastic burden upon her shoulders, and yet she was currently nothing but a petty confidence for a supposedly more important group.

Usagi kept herself occupied with a sudden interest in the flowerbeds that scattered across the park, an unidentifiable smile lingering at the corner of her lips. She felt a little disappointed after a moment, the impending smile fading sharply as she realized that they were artificial. Everything was artificial in Colony L2, it seemed. The people, the rain, the flowers, even the wind…

She hadn't bothered to dress modestly on such a hot day, wearing a candy-red spaghetti-strapped dress that pleated at the thigh-length skirt, a thin ivory puffy-sleeved blouse under said dress, beach sandals tucked over her feet, and a clean petunia-festooned straw hat over her blonde head and a tight fishbone braid trailing to the small of her back.

Usagi sighed dramatically, and decided to pick at an artificial dandelion. The wind was getting much more stubborn, she noted, fastening one hand over her hat as the breeze whipped her hair across the air with gusto. Why had they even installed a synthetic weather system in such a tedious place was beyond her knowledge. It was so pointless, and half the time the weather was annoying anyway. The colonies were like some travesty of the earth, a vain imitation of the real thing. They tried too hard, Usagi decided with faint irritation…

Something wet and very warm started at her chin, and then trailed up and down her cheek frenziedly. "Ewheww! Apollo!" Nearly consuming her sight she was met with a large, pink snout. She gasped, "Bad dog!"

A pair of huge, blue eyes stared at her with almost hysterical enthusiasm against a shaggy coat of golden fur. Apollo's eyes shimmered with that unnatural twinkle that dogs seemed to always have, the irresistible poor-vulnerable puppy-dog look. Usagi pursed her lips, "Eh, I could never stay mad at you." She pouted at the dog, who whimpered piteously as he mistook her expression for anger. She cupped her hands under his snout and gently forced him to stare at her, grinning, and scratching his neck. That immediately set him into an overzealous mood, and he leaped back and forth, wagging his tail with delight and barking as if beckoning her to play.

She did not move from her perch on the park bench, not at all enticed by the half-Shiba half-golden retriever's offer. Getting licked in the face by an adorable and yet very large dog always tickled her senses, but it always left a gallon-or-so mess of slobber too soon thereafter. She sighed as the canine bounded off, confidently expecting her to follow. Usagi reluctantly stood from the public seat, but before she could manage a step the familiar rush of wind caught her off guard. Unprepared, her straw-hat danced across the air with a sudden childish mind of its own, as though tempting her to catch it. "No! 'Ruka-chan just bought me that!" She hopped a little foolishly across the field, and every time the hat would come close to her reach it soared high away at the last second, as if mocking her.

Furious, she jumped into the air with a sudden sharp bolt and, finally, caught the stubborn straw-hat trapped in her arms. It was in mid-air when she realized she was soon going to plummet hard onto the ground, and she fell with an instinctive yelp, already her eyes closed and hugging the hat as if for dear life. "Kyaa!" She muffled.

"Look at that—haha—girl!"

"What a strange child…"

"All that for a stupid hat?"

"Pssst. Dude, if you look to your right you could totally see her downstairs…"

Usagi felt the blood teeming through her cheeks, face ready to burst from the blood rushing into her cheeks. She stood up shakily, lengthy fingers still closed around her straw-hat in one hand, smoothing away dirt and grass away from her legs and dress with the other. Plucking at some pine needles that clung to her bangs, she mumbled a flippant death wish and curtly walked towards the other more disserted area of the park. Apollo had run off into that certain area before her; the acre was crowded with wildflowers, and the air was thick with fragrant pollen, half the land eaten up by a colossal lake.

Apollo was seen near the shore of the lake, hopping and barking feverishly at a scuttling freshwater crab. Usagi fastened her hat atop her head until it nearly fell over her eyes, and walked towards her canine friend. The golden-coated dog, upon seeing her, bounded on all fours in her direction. Her immediate thought was to run for it, knowing she would get tackled to the ground if she didn't, but stopped short and braced herself. The things she did for her pets!

A few minutes later, Apollo only dashed passed her without a second backward glance. "Apollo, where are you going," she called after the retriever. Apollo only bolted faster, headed straight out of the park. "Bad dog! Come baaack!" She whined, keeping her hand over her hat as she chased after him.

She caught up with the golden canine just around the corner, almost bumping into Apollo. The dog glanced over his shoulder with a wolfish grin, and Usagi gasped to herself in mild surprise. _It seems Apollo made a new friend..._ she realized inwardly. She grinned cutely, "Hello! I'm Usagi! Who might you be?"

"Trowa Barton."

**--**

**Author's Note:** There really is no plot, because it isn't even finished. It's an unfinished fic that popped into my head. And then I had a brain fart, which induced my Writer's Block. So yeah, enjoy while you can cuz this may be the last you'll ever see of this...

But right now I'm in a bit of a pickle, (cough**mycomputerisbrokenAGAIN**cough) and I am only able to update on this one because my The Hearts chapters are all in my dead computer and right now I'm using my parent's computer (I'm living with them for the summer, but I have to go home afterwards). So yeah, Gundam Wing! My gawd this is an old anime… as old as Sailor Moon! **:D** But I love it though because the Gundam Boys remind me of Sailor Scouts on steroids…ahem, I mean boy versions of the sailor scouts…

If you have any questions, or just want to express you're thoughts and/or constructive critique, simply do so in a review! I'd be happy to respond. :D

XOXO,

Moony


	4. Chapter 4: A Little Reassurance

**A Little Reassurance**

**Author:** Shannin

**Pairing: **NaruUsa (Naruto+Usagi)

**Word Count: **1,586

**Disclaimer: **The anime series'Naruto and Sailor Moon are copyright to their respective owners, and I just abuses my right as a US citizen right under the 1st amendment of the constitution for my own (as well as others) devious pleasures.

**Summery:** It's Naruto's 8th birthday, but he needs some help believing it's a happy one. Usagi's there to make it special!

_**-**_

_**"To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world." – **_**Unknown **

_**-**_

"Naruto…"

Worried blue eyes, as pale as if it were pearly silver, peered beneath flaxen lashes toward the tiny Kyuubi vessel that was Uzumaki Naruto. The tanned boy had been bound to yet another tree by several of the older kids in the village for the umpteenth time since the noon.

The blue of the sky had gradually slipped into a pool of deep gold, warm orange and flushed pink, and in its wake dusk was slowly dipping its inky colors into the village of Konoha.

"Get away, Odango Atama! I'll get outta this myself!"

"Oh, Naruto…" ignoring the despised childhood nickname, Usagi sighed dramatically. Naruto continued to babble words that were incoherent to her, entering one ear and out the other as she made a move to untie him.

"They tied it real tight this time," Usagi commented conversationally, withdrawing a kunai that gleamed menacingly against the scattered light of the setting sun. Naruto paused in his self-righteous blurb, blinking curiously at the pale-eyed girl as she proceeded to cut him free. "No wonder you weren't able to get free on your own." With a single swing of the blade, the bonds fell to the ground and Naruto was harmlessly freed.

"I told you, Odango," He proclaimed, his voice a bitter whisper now, his eyes a smoldering sapphire blue as he stared at her, "I didn't need your help."

"But you got it anyway, so there," Usagi shrugged nonchalantly. Her indifference only infuriated the younger boy even more. He lunged at her, but she held him back with the length of her arm, her palm pressed against his forehead as he tried to claw at her. The attempts were as futile as if he had been doing nothing at all. Usagi peered at him almost as though she were giving him the once-over. She was a rough two feet taller than Naruto, and about four years older.

"You're now eight years old today, aren't you, Naru-chan?" Usagi blinked curiously as the younger blonde froze over in his barrage of little fists, which had previously been beating at the open space between them, his eyes wide and his arms in front of him in mid-punch. Usagi used her free hand so that her fingertips were pressed over her lips, just now realizing why the children had tormented him with so much more ferocity than usual.

It would explain why the village children were suddenly so open with their resentment towards Naruto, and why the village people hardly did anything to stop the younger generation from tormenting the poor boy. His birthday was also the very day in which many good lives were lost, therefore it was more of a time to lament—as well as resent—on the day of the sealing of the Kyuubi.

Naruto's body slumped into a slouching stance, his arms dangling limply at his sides and his shoulders trembling. She could only see the top of his head, for Naruto could not bare look her in the eyes. The boisterous, self-righteous visage that he had previously displayed seemed to have fled along with the wind. All that was left seemed to be helplessness and shame. Usagi frowned at the sight.

"I have something for you, little kitsune," Usagi withdrew her hand away from Naruto, ignoring the urge to embrace the small child and instead reached for the rucksack that was slung snugly against her back. She opened the backpack and dug inside, Naruto's inquisitive wide-eyed gaze digging into the bag itself, and as Usagi finally revealed the gift Naruto immediately snatched it out of her hands.

"Goggles?" Naruto curiously tinkered with the thick, green biker goggles in his hands.

"Put it around your forehead like a shinobi headband protector," Usagi informed, smiling amiably.

Naruto looked up from the gift and responded with a blank stare. "Why?"

Usagi knelt close to Naruto, as if to demonstrate, and then placed a hand on his cheek. Her thumb caressed his skin, and the sudden contact petrified Naruto into wide-eyed astonishment. Usagi shifted her fingertips so that they smoothed over his forehead, brushing away the length of his blonde spiky bangs from his eyes. She grinned, "So everyone can see those gorgeous eyes of yours, Naruto. And besides, you need to occupy your head with something until you get your shinobi headband, right?"

"What did I do to earn this?" Naruto frowned at the goggles in his hands, totally confused.

Usagi laughed. "Don't be silly! It's your birthday, of course!"

For a long moment, Naruto just stared at Usagi—her affectionate smile, the genuine kindness that was clear in her pale eyes. His frown deepened.

"What's wrong, Naruto? You don't like it?" The utter worry and insecurity in her expression was heartbreaking.

Naruto vigorously shook his head no. "No, its just…no one's ever done this before—most of the time, everyone's just really angry at me." Naruto couldn't look Usagi in the eye when he was finished, constantly staring at either something on the ground or something at the corner of his eye. "It's like everyone hates the fact that I'm even born. And why wouldn't they? I was born on the day that the Kyuubi demon killed their families and friends…"

Naruto sounded bitter. Usagi decided that she didn't like the hint of unforgiving hatred in his voice at all; it sent a wave of sorrow over her, and she didn't like that feeling either. Usagi wanted to hug him.

"I don't think that at all…" she said quietly.

"Huh?" Naruto blinked.

Usagi kneeled to meet his wide eyes, and smiled timidly, but the affection and sincerity that shone in her eyes were clear. "I think that you're just so _special_, Naruto. You're brave and headstrong, and although sometimes it's not your best traits, you never give up! You're strong in spite of everything that's tried to bring you down. I admire you for that, little kitsune. I know that one day the world would smile upon this day, and _you_ in general."

She patted his head, bringing him to into her embrace. She was a little surprised when he didn't struggle, but it only made her hug him tighter. Her smile broadened fondly.

"I have another surprise!" Usagi held him back at arms length and smiled.

"What? Is it ramen?" Naruto's mouth was open almost hungrily in a gaping smile.

"No," Usagi said, almost shyly. "I want you to be happy, Naruto. I want to do that to the very best of my abilities, both emotionally and… _physically_."

"Eh?" Naruto stared dumbfounded, an increasing blush on his face as Usagi began to slowly undo the zipper on her off-white hoodie vest. It revealed the slightly mesh sleeveless black top she wore, with a particularly plummeting oval neckline, the swell of her bosom teasingly revealed. The camisole was not long enough to hide her naval, which was clearly lean and smooth. Naruto's face was completely red by the time she'd slipped the hoodie vest off.

'_Wow, she's like those ladies in the magazines at the back of old man Koru's shop_…' Naruto blushed feverishly. He felt his nose start to bleed as he remembered sneaking peaks at the adult magazines before getting kicked out of the small shop several times. Sometimes Old Man Koru would even hit him with his back-scratching stick.

"And that's why I'm going to train with you for the entire day!" Usagi beamed radiantly. She was already in a defensive stance.

Naruto nearly fell over. "Eeeeeh?" His eyes were the size of saucers, a feeling of childish disappointment overwhelming him.

"Come on, half-pint! Show me what you've got! You wanna be Hokage, don't you?!" Usagi narrowed her pale eyes in a concentrated furrow, grinning almost sadistically. Brilliant silver flames erupted from her fists, and she began erratically shooting blades of white-hot chakra directly at the smaller blonde.

"KYAAAAAH!" Naruto let out a bloodcurdling scream, waving his arms in the air as he ran for his life.

Realizing that far-ranged attacks were obviously not working, for Naruto was surprisingly evasive and just as quick, Usagi brought her hands together in a hand seal and set her lips into a concentrated frown before she shouted fiercely—

"BYAKOGAN!"

_**-**_

_**END…? **_

_**-**_

**Author's Note**

I didn't even try to make Usagi in-character here so…meh. How was the ending? Interesting, yes? XD If you don't get it, Usagi is a member of the Hyuga clan in this fic. This one-shot, however, was all for fun. But it could also be romantic, in a silly almost-platonic sandbox crush sort of way. I'd actually love to turn this into a drabble series, in which 12-year-old Usagi interacts with all of the Naruto kids when they're still like age 8 or 9.

I just wanted to post something and, well, this was something. I really do miss writing Sailor Moon X-over very much, but I'm rather busy and my new obsession is Warren Peace (from the movie Sky High). Lol. Maybe I should do a Sky High/Sailor Moon x-over? Weird stuff has happened before!

Review please, and tell me what you think.


End file.
